


Schoolyard Games

by Alessgrosskid (thatonegrosskid)



Series: batjokes hijinks [1]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Bruce Wayne is Bad at Feelings, Bruce wayne barely knows how kissing works theres zero chance he knows what a hickey is, Conditioning, Developing Relationship, F/F, M/M, Manipulative Jerome, Skipping Class, Technically a High school AU, Unhealthy Relationships, and hes just so oblivious to red flags i feel like this counts as an unreliable narriator, copious consumption of dumdums, helpless bruce, jerehmiah doesnt exsist, overdependance to an extent, snowballing relationship, tags will be updated as I write to try adn avoid spoilers, there be texting here, unbetad, whats the opposite of a slow burn bc this is that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2020-11-27 17:14:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20951984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatonegrosskid/pseuds/Alessgrosskid
Summary: When he was called to the principal's office and told to ‘befriend’ a new student who had been acting up since he got here, he wasn't necessarily surprised, but he wasn't happy about it.“Hello, Jerome. My name is Bruce Wayne and as I don't like relationships to be based on lies, I want you to know that Principal Henrys asked me to try and befriend you to try and curb your destructive tendencies.”“Oh goodie, a government assigned friend. Always wanted one of those.”[Bruce makes friends with resident new kid and delinquent, Jerome Valeska, and realizes that A) he is not the best judge of character and B) He does not know how to process his own emotions.]





	1. Government Assigned Friends

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the only story I've ever written where I wrote an outline first and the wip outline is 7 pages of keysmashes and rambling I wrote on my phone during a 6 hour car ride so get ready for me attempting to make sense of my own ineptitude.

Bruce was never one for friends, he supposes. Very few children cared much to play with him as a child and at school he was sucked up to or bullied. Thinking about it, Selina really was his only friend, and had been for a long while. 

And it's not like the school administration didn’t know that. After his year long absence following the death of his parents, even his sycophants had begun to trail off, preferring to whisper about him behind his back. If he weren't, frankly, used to it, he might be insulted. As it were, he mostly ignored it, fighting back the ever growing urge to punt Tommy in the nuts whenever he got close to him and holding back from flipping off every sophomore girl who saw him as a suffering loner they could save by loving just the right way. He did his work, he socialized when he needed to and he tried not to get in trouble. That’s all he had promised Alfred and that’s all he was prepared to do.

So when he was called to the principal's office and told to ‘befriend’ a new student who had been acting up, he wasn't necessarily surprised, but he wasn't happy about it. 

Jerome Valeska had been in school less than three weeks and has already cost his foster father hundreds in damages with his pranks and had either been late or skipped every class he had been to. Apparently, the administration thought that Bruce, the goody two shoes he was, was just what they needed to rub off on him. Assuming he could. He probably couldn't.

So this is why, rather than eating a packed lunch outside with Selina, he was making his way to sit besides Jerome, at the very least, thankful that he sat alone. It was likely for the better. 

“Hello, Jerome.” He smiled politely as he sat across from him, “My name is Bruce Wayne and as I don't like relationships to be based on lies, I want you to know that Principal Henrys asked me to try and befriend you to try and curb your destructive tendencies.”

Jerome looked at him, blinking a few times, before smiling wide, showing off just slightly yellowed teeth and dark gums. “Oh goodie, a government assigned friend. Always wanted one of those.” he leaned forward, cradling his chin in his hands above his untouched food, lollipop stick moving in his mouth as he talked, “So, if we’re gonna be best friends, how about an ice breaker, Brucie? Get to know each other a little.”

Bruce frowned, he hadn't expected smiling acceptance. “Did you just call me Brucie?”

“Catch up kid, we’re playing 20 questions and you just used up your turn.” 

Jerome was more... palatable that Bruce has first figured he'd be. Sure, he was louder than Bruce was used to, fast talking, dramatic and a bit of a troublemaker, but he was also surprisingly smart, charismatic, able to capture a room’s attention with ease. He was a bit like the thin, white scars around his face, easy to miss if you weren't looking closely. Easy to ignore or misjudge. Even when things were tense at the beginning, he never treated Bruce badly or sucked up to him, just kind of accepted that they were friends now, though he still called their lunches together 'government mandated friendship time'. Even so, Bruce has tried to keep himself reasonably professional with Jerome, kept his speaking to a minimum unless he was asked a question, tried not to engage when Jerome tried to get a rise out of him, tended to be the first to leave when lunch ended. He did try, but it's almost impossible. 

The guy is unreasonably magnetic, after a few days Bruce couldn't help teasing back, putting his input into whatever outrageous hypothetical Jerome cooked up, even started walking out of the lunch room with him before they went their separate ways. Worst of all, he had a knack for getting Bruce to agree to things he never would have before. 

For the past week in fact, Jerome had been trying to convince Bruce to join him on one of his pranks, promising he wouldn't get caught and that it would be amazing to watch the fallout. He was of course very against it, he was always hesitant to mess with people, even when Selina asked, but Jerome was persistent and seemed adept at wearing him down with his wheedling. He also seemed to be trying to bribe him with candy, showing up every lunch with pockets full of dumdums and ready to plead. While he assured Jerome that it wasn’t going to work, he couldn’t stop himself from taking a few lollipops anyway.

“Come on, Brucie, think about it.” Jerome leaned across the table, bubblegum dumdum hanging half out his mouth, eyes unnervingly intense, “It’s Tommy we’re talking about! I don't have to be a genius to know you two aren't the best of friends and honestly, I’m not sure that kid knows the word. He’d deserve it. And it's not even gonna hurt him! Physically, at least.”

“I may not like Tommy,” an understatement of course, he would sell Tommy to the crows for a single potato chip, “But I’m not getting in trouble for a moment of gratification. In fact, I’m supposed to be keeping  _ you  _ out of trouble.”

“But that’s the beauty of it, isn’t it? You won’t get caught!” Jerome smiled wide, the dumdum crunching under his molars, “Even if they find out I did it, they would never suspect their golden boy to be in on it! It’s the perfect crime!” 

Bruce definitely wasn't genuinely thinking of agreeing... definitely. He would never agree to something like that. “I just don’t think-”

“You don't even have to do anything!” Jerome assured, “I’ve already got it all figured out, I just want you around, get you to live a little.” He smiled his stupid, pretty, crooked smile and looked Bruce in the eye, “Even if you’re just being forced to hang around me, I wanna be a good friend.”

Bruce tried, he really did. He tried thinking about what would happen if they got caught, what would the principal think, what would Alfred think, how could Selina hold this over him, but it all circled back to that obnoxious smile and he really just couldn't do it. He let out a breath and looked down at his hands, root beer dumdum tucked into his cheek, “If I get caught, I swear I’m never talking to you again.”

He couldn’t see the way Jerome’s eyes lit up at that, but god he could feel it. He really was doomed. 

Okay, so maybe that was amazing. They had snuck into the school after dark, the night before report cards were meant to go out. All Bruce had to do was walk behind Jerome and try not to alert any janitors. He had never done something like this without Selina, it felt different somehow. He watched, strangely excited as Jerome got into the counselors school account (how he got his account information, Bruce would never know) and picked out Tommy on the long list of names. He swiftly and mercilessly dropped every grade by 50 points, going as far as to change the actual assignments grades, not just the final grade. As a final hit, he put some well placed holes in Tommy’s attendance and filled out a few fake complaints against him, leaving a trail of breadcrumbs at Tommy's expense. A beautiful little time bomb that would unravel all the farther if someone tried to look into what was going on, more an outright attack than a prank.

Bruce had always heard of Jerome pulling more physical pranks, filling the auditorium with snakes, spiking the sodas in the vending machines, sabotaging every motorcycle he could find in the school parking lots. Apparently, he had planned this one just for Bruce. “I was gonna get the prick anyways,” Jerome told him when he had explained his plan, “I just thought that you would like this better that what I originally planned.” Bruce never asked what he had originally planned, but he was a bit flattered that he’d thought of him. 

After taking a second to fill in a few of his own absences and fix up a grade or two (“I never give myself more than a low B, otherwise, they know I’m cheating the system.”) and scribble down Tommy’s address to watch the shitshow later, Jerome logged out and fixed the desk so it was like they were never there. As they left, he threw his arm around Bruce, pulling him tight against himself and congratulating him on his first time being an accomplice. He thought about pushing Jerome’s arm off of him, keeping an air of professionalism between them, he really wasn’t used to people being that close to him, but he figured he was lucky Jerome hadn’t done something like this before and allowed it. 

Bruce had never read if you give a mouse a cookie, but he knew the basic idea of it, and it turned out, if you let Jerome put his arm around you when leaving the scene of the crime, he would swing his arm around you when you greeted him the next day. If you allowed that, he would start hanging around you more often, not just at lunches. If you allowed that, he would start pulling you closer to him while you walked in the halls. If that, he would start passing you a few dumdums before you got into your classroom (always your favorite flavours), he would whisper about the next prank he was planning like he was planning a bank robbery, He would invite you to come along and when you (usually) said no, he would send you bored looking selfies ‘wish you were here’ when he ended up in detention or suspended because of them. And so on and so forth apparently forever because Jerome just seemed like a close, touchy person. 

With Bruce anyways. Thinking about it, He’d never seen Jerome really close to another student, teasing maybe, getting information probably, flirting absolutely, but he never hung on to them, get up close and personal when he wasn’t trying to scare them. Well, Bruce couldn’t explain it, but Jerome didn’t seem to think there was anything weird about what he was doing and he hadn’t heard more than a few whispers from the rest of the student body, so he supposed it was fine. Maybe it was the feeling of having someone actually interested in him and being his friend that had him so hung up on him in the first place. He didn’t really realize when he started following Jerome to his own classes, waiting for him in the lunch room when he was late, got so used to having little lollipops in his mouth all day that it almost felt weird being at school without one. He didn’t know when he had gotten like this but nothing bad had come of it yet, and it came with a strangely nice warm feeling in his stomach, so he supposed he didn’t really have to think about it. 

So he didn’t think much of it when Jerome walked him to his biology class, arm around his shoulders, talking about how he had this great idea for a prank on the cross-country team, or at least he didn’t question it. He didn’t expect it however, when Jerome stopped them both just before he reached his biology classroom, backing him up against a locker. An action that definitely didn’t make his heart skip a beat. 

“Hey, Brucie, you know I wouldn’t ask you something like this if I didn't think it mattered,” wow, what a great way to start a request, “But would you mind skipping bio today to hang with me in language arts? I can't skip again or my foster dad will have my head.”

“What?” It took him a moment to process the request, lollipop tucked into his cheek, “I can’t just skip, they’ll see the absence in my attendance and  _ I’ll  _ get in trouble.”

“No, no, I thought about it!” Jerome smiled, that crooked smile he flashed when he wanted something, “Just leave your bag with me, go in and turn in your homework (because I know you actually do the homework) and in a few minutes you can ask to go to the restroom and I’ll be waiting out here for you.”

Bruce tried to think of arguments against it, he’d never skipped a class on purpose before and he actually really liked his biology class, but every time he tried he immediately had a little Jerome voice come in with a counterargument, urging him to live a little, break some rules while he was still young. Well. If he’d never skipped class before, if it was just this once, he was sure it would be fine. They  _ probably  _ wouldn't get caught, and even if they did, he’d only get off with a warning. So, gnawing at his dumdum, he nodded, passing Jerome his bag and fishing the homework out. 

Jerome smiled wide, planting a kiss on his forehead, “Thanks a ton, Brucie!”

Bruce blinked, surprised, stuttering out a ‘no problem’ before turning quickly and walking inside, persistently ignoring the heat in his cheeks and the strange feeling in his stomach, like an amplified version of the feeling he’d been getting around Jerome. He felt like his ears were ringing the whole time he waited to turn in his homework and to raise his hand to ask to use the restroom. Apparently, his strange feeling must have shown on his face, as Ms. Foxglove agreed immediately, sending him out into the hall with a concerned look on her face. Outside, he found Jerome still leaning against the wall, his bag in hand. 

“15 minutes, Brucie,” He tisked, “And here I was thinking I was being forgotten.” He stood straight, placing his arm back around Bruce like it belonged there, smiling down at him, “Better get going, huh? I’m already late.”

Bruce nodded, watching his bag swing over Jerome’s shoulder, “Oh yes, wouldn’t want to ruin your perfect attendance.” 

Jerome laughed and Bruce smiled, looking up at him. His bright smile, the thin trails of white scars barely visible against his pale skin, like negative space in his dense freckles. It wasn’t like Bruce made a habit of watching Jerome from his little nook under his arm, he tried not to spend much time looking at him while Jerome walked him around, as absorbed in his own monologuing as he tended to be. He definitely never tried to map out the cluster of freckles on Jerome’s nose or try to catalogue all the different changes his face made because he spoke so animatedly. The conspiratorial smirk when he was planning something, that crooked smile when he wanted something, the crinkle around his eyes when he genuinely laughed and smiled (and he never noted how infectious his laugh is or the feeling it gives him in his gut), none of the stiff stage grins he gave to school administrators or kids he found too annoying to bother with but not annoying enough to play any pranks that were  _ too  _ mean on.

And Jerome could be mean. He tried seemed keen on pretending Bruce didn’t see when he flashed his pocket knife at kids who overstayed their welcome around him, how his eyes hardened while he stared down staff, even some of his pranks were enough to make Bruce uneasy sometimes (He was adamant about not getting drinks from the vending machines). He supposed he should have expected it, he knew Jerome’s reputation before he agreed to hang out with him and he was the one who went and made actual friends with him. Of course, he made his objections known when he thought Jerome was going overboard, and sometimes he even listened to him. 

He was usually better than this, more put together, more assertive, but something about Jerome seemed to break that down, make if hard for him to stay his ground.

None of the really mattered now, anyways, because he was being led into Mr. Crockham’s language arts class. Bruce nodded to him while Jerome loudly proclaimed his entrance, staring down Crockham as if daring him to say anything. Mr. Crockham visibly gave up, just telling them to take their seats. So Bruce was lead to the back of the classroom, sitting in the desk beside Jerome’s, pushed up together like middle schoolers. They spent the class doodling in one of the few notebooks Jerome actually brought to school and whispering to each other about the others in the class, laughing and snarking, even when Crockham glared at them from his desk. It actually just made it funnier.

After that, Jerome ‘persuaded’ (read: he asked nicely and Bruce gave in) him into spending his off periods with him in his shop class, watching him work on whatever project he’d thought of that day, the teacher basically giving him free roam as long as he didn’t break anything and tried to clean up after himself. Jerome had a habit of making small boxes and rings while he thought, of what, he never asked. Bruce felt a bit bad, he usually spent his free periods with Selina outside, but he was sure she would understand. Besides, what better way to keep Jerome out of trouble then to keep him supervised?

Evidently, Selina was not a fan of his logic. 

“Bruce, I barely get to spend time with you on weekdays,” She complained, walking beside him as the made their way to the Cat’s Cradle to hang out, “Suddenly this Jerome kid shows up and I’m getting shown up?”

“It’s not like that,” he frowned, “I don’t know. I know it seems weird, We’ve only been friends I guess for a couple months, but he’s really-” He tried to think of something that didn’t sound pathetic, “Different. Like, he treats me like a normal person. He’s really funny and can be pretty sweet-”

“Bruce, didn’t you only start hanging out with him to keep him out of trouble?” Selina looked at him, face tight, “I’m not really the best judge of character, but I’m pretty sure if someone needs a goody two shoes like you to balance them you, they might be a bad influence.”

Bruce’s face screwed up, trying not to sound as petulant as he felt, "No! He's kind of a troublemaker and he plays some bad pranks sometimes but they're usually still pretty funny and it's mostly in good fun! he's really chill outside of that.”

She snorted, shoving her hands in her pockets, “If you like him so much, why don’t you just make out with him already?”

He tried to find something to say back but it was like his brain had gone completely blank, his face burning while he stuttered, “I- no- well- what do- uhm-” He shut himself up, a bare minimum attempt to stop embarrassing himself.

Selina threw her hand out in front of him, stopping him in his tracks on the sidewalk. She turned her head to him, slack mouth slowly turning up into a ridiculous smile. “Holy shit, you  _ actually  _ like him.” she moved to face him, getting far closer into his personal space than he was comfortable with, “You’ve got a crush! On a ginger!”

He stepped back, trying to put space between them just so he could think, “I don't- maybe? I don’t know, I don’t get crushes!” 

Needless to say, Selina has yet to let him live that down.


	2. A Segue Into Plot Ft. Texting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i seem to distinctly remember saying this was the opposite of a slow burn
> 
> also, if you see like an egregious typo or mistake pls tell me.

He thought about that during his lessons, trying despite himself to ignoring the heat in his stomach. Did he have a crush on Jerome? If he was telling the truth, he really can’t remember ever having a crush before. Though, from what he’d seen of Selina before she and Ivy got together, it seemed to fit. He tried to pay attention to his french lesson, he really did, but his mind kept roaming back to Jerome. What would it mean to have a crush on him? You could still be friends if you have a crush your friend, he was sure. He may not socialize often, but he wasn’t an idiot. Were you supposed to- to tell someone? That you liked them? He didn’t like keeping things from his friends unless it was necessary, but what if Jerome didn’t want to deal with something like that? What if he didn’t want to be friends anymore because he thought Bruce was weird? He wasn’t like Selina, he couldn’t just blurt it out and hope that no one saw how nervous he was to even say it out loud.

These were all new-ish feelings to him, and he didn’t particularly know how to handle. He didn’t  _ do  _ socializing outside of keeping up appearances, he only had Selina and Alfred until now and he could say very firmly he’d never been attracted to them. Bruce sighed, officially giving up on finishing his notes. He was already fluent in french, he didn’t even really need them. Instead, he made sure his teacher wasn’t looking and took his phone out, something he tried not to do in class (until recently, that is). He flipped through his messages, wondering if he was really going to go straight from obsessive over Jerome, who he hadn't seen today and figured stayed home, to texting him. Deciding against it, he messaged Selina. 

**Dork king**

Hey, Selina.

**Selina**

Whats wrong

**Dork king**

What, nothing? Why would you think somethings wrong?

**Selina**

Because u never text me during school unless i message first

**Dork king**

Well, apparently now i do. Maybe I just wanted to talk. Try and make up for not getting to hang out during free periods anymore

**Selina**

Ah well, how could I say no? it’s not like I have my own life to deal with

**Dork king**

I don't think overfeeding your cats and gossiping with your girlfriend counts as a life.

**Selina**

You know I can just stop responding

I don't have to listen to you

**Dork king**

You don't have to, but I know where you live and which apartment windows have broken locks.

**Selina**

Threatening your best friend? Maybe that valeska kid is a bad influence

  
  


Talking with Selina was a tried-and-true easy pick me up. After trying to pick his way through his own feelings, her hot and cold attitude was refreshing. Bruce messaged her for the rest of class, trying and likely failing to not look like he was completely ignoring their lesson. When he got up to leave, shoving his half done notes into his bag, he swore he could feel his teacher, Miss Baudelaire watching him, waiting to ask him to stay after class. Bruce decided to try and ignore her, saying goodbye and rushing out the door. He couldn’t just stare a teacher into submission like some people. He was in fact so absorbed in trying not to meet her eye, that he ran straight into Jerome outside the door, both of their reflexes just barely stopping him from dropping to the floor. "Jerome? I thou-"

“Careful there, Brucie, your ass is worth more than half of Gotham.” 

Jerome gave him a half smile, hauling him up.

Bruce huffed and slotted himself into his place under the other’s arm, “I wouldn’t worry, that’s what the insurance is for.”

Besides the chuckle that got out of him, they walked to Bruce’s next class in relative silence, Jerome’s face seeming frozen when Bruce looked up at him. Anyone else might assume it was an easy going smile, but it was too stiff and didn’t reach his eyes. His uniform dress shirt was unbuttoned under his blaiser, his usually undone tie absent, but not like he was just refusing to wear the uniform, it was like he’d been forced out of the house unfinished. He can’t remember ever seeing Jerome this quiet, eyes straight ahead and mouth shut. He knew something was wrong, probably having to do with why he was gone all day, but he couldn’t just... ask about that? Could he? Well, he was working up the nerve to try when they stopped, already in front of his last period class. Jerome hovered over him, not letting go, but not speaking either. Finally he let his lip twitch up, looking down at Bruce.

“I know we don’t really hang outside of school, but would you mind letting me come over after school?” His eyes flickered around the hallway, “I gotta talk to you about something important.”

And maybe he should have thought for a moment before automatically saying, “Yeah, of course!” but honestly, he would have said it anyways. “Alfred picks me up right after school so we can walk out together.” 

Jerome squeezed him tight before letting go, sticking a new dumdum in his mouth and walking off with a “See you after class, Brucie.” Watching him go, it took Bruce a full minute to realize he was A) officially late to class and B) Jerome had taken his bag with him. He debated running after him, but knew that if he did, he’d probably find some reason to not come back, so he sucked it up and walked into his classroom, already trying to think of an excuse for not having his homework to turn in.

Lucky for him, not so much for his attention span, they had a substitute that day. A substitute who’s only words throughout the class were, “your teacher left instructions on the board, please work quietly while I call roll,” before leaving them to their own devices. Bruce finished his work egregiously quickly, spending the rest of the period checking his phone obsessively and staring out the window at the grey clouds and smog that liked to hang over Gotham near constantly. At least, most of the period. Sadly for him, his english iii course had a small smattering of sophomores in it, one of whom didn’t want to leave him alone. 

Deandra had a habit of staring at him, but never talking to him, talking to him but never listening to him and trying to sit as close to him as possible even after he told her to please leave him alone. He was sure she was a good person, she was never mean to him and when he bothered to listen to her, she seemed to have a good enough head on her shoulders, it was purely her obsessive need to get his attention and unwillingness to leave him be that ruined it for him. If she just asked to hang out and respected his space it’d be different but no, she just came and sat beside him with a, “Have you finished your work, Bruce?” Looking at him with wide, expecting eyes. 

He seriously thought about just ignoring her, hoping she’s leave him alone for the 30 minutes they would be left stuck together, but not only would that be rude to do to a girl, he was pretty sure she wouldn't leave anyway. Instead he sucked it up for a few minutes and nodded, reaching for his phone as she continued on.

“I figured you would be like the first to finish-”

**DumDum**

Say, did you actually go to class or are you just hanging around in the hallways?

“I’m not sure what to do for this question though, so I thought-”

**Jerome**

Ill give you one guess, Brucie, winner gets the last rootbeer.

“Do you think you could help me with a few problems?”

**DumDum **

Well, if you’re skipping anyways, can you come get me?

“There’s this part of the speech where-”

**Jerome**

Ooh, skipping class without me having to ask, maybe ive been a bad influence on you 

“And I know that he’s addressing congress but I really don’t thing the essay-”

**DumDum**

Funny, you’re not the first one to say that to me today. Come pick me up.

“So do you think that it could be argued that he didn’t believe-”

**Jerome**

Whatever you say, Brucie.

“-uce? Bruce? What do you think?”

“I think that you can finish this by yourself,” He gave her a small smile, standing up, “Because I need to go.” He backed away from his desk and Deandra, turning her back to her to ask the substitute permission to leave. Thankfully, for everyone involved, he was able to leave immediately, Jerome already waiting outside for him, both their bags slung over his shoulder. Bruce opened his mouth to speak, but had a candy popped in his mouth instead.

“Congrats, winner,” Jerome smiled, wrapping his arm around him, “I was saving that dumdum.” 

Bruce smiled, almost surprise how relieved he was to see the other wasn't so serious anymore. He rolled the dumdum in his mouth, scrunching his nose at Jerome while they walked, "Well, you didn't  _ have  _ to give it to me, that's your fault." 

"Careful, Brucie,” he clicked his tongue, “I said I’d give it to you, never said I wouldn't take it back." 

"It's already been in my mouth," Bruce sneered, "you wouldn't-"

He was interrupted, of course, by Jerome reaching over and popping the lollipop out if his mouth and into his own, smirking at him like the asshole he was. "Don't tell me what I will or won't do, you're almost always gonna be wrong." He stuck his tongue out at Bruce, either not noticing or not mentioning the flush on his face, holding the candy between his canines. 

Taking his change, and ignoring the twisting in his gut, Bruce reached up and snatched the candy from Jerome’s mouth, making his teeth snap shut with a ‘click’. He popped the candy in his mouth before he could think better of it, smiling triumphantly. 

Jerome laughed, no doubt disturbing the classes they passed by, apparently accepting the defeat and popping a caramel dumdum in his mouth. They walked on in relative silence, roaming the halls until the final bell rang, Jerome mocking the various tacky inspirational that littered the otherwise perfect walls, as if someone decided to spend an inordinate amount of money making a school for rich kids as clearly a school for rich kids as possible then decided to put a Garfield poster on the wall just for the hell of it. It was in equal parts insulting and painful to look at. 

When the final bell rang, the halls flooding with teenagers and teachers, all doing their best to get home as fast as possible, they slipped out the front doors, Jerome sitting, legs spread, on the railing of the steps and Bruce standing beside him while they waited. Watching the street, Bruce's eyes ran from the cars passing them by to the students who surrounded them to beside him, watching Jerome's face while he scanned the street, trying to guess which limo was his. He smiled when he talked, cracked easy jokes about the kids who passed, even getting Bruce to snort into his hand when he saw Tommy get into an expensive looking black car and have to pass his phone up to the driver. "What do you wanna bet his mom started checking his grades online?" 

He smiled, but still, he saw Jerome's face fall between his quips, his attention flicking towards the kids who passed him, eyes hard. He was watching out for something, something he hadn't told Bruce about and it was honestly kind of freaking him out. Even so, he didn't want to ask what was wrong and risk Jerome brushing it off and never mentioning it again. So instead, he watched him and tried to watch the cars, but mostly watched Jerome. 

He was so focused on him in fact, that he almost missed Alfred standing outside the car, watching him. Well, it was kind of hard to miss alfred, especially when his eyes were burning holes in your head, doubly so when you're being nudged in the side by your probably crush, with the words "hey, Brucie, I think Jeeves is waiting for you."

There was an odd feeling, walking up to Alfred with Jerome hanging off of him, uniform half done, obnoxious smirk on his face, waiting for some kind of reaction from his guardian. He felt like a rich girl bringing her punk boyfriend home for the first time. The thought brought that warm feeling back into his stomach, bringing an awkward smile to his face when he told Alfred that Jerome would be coming home with them that afternoon. 

“Well, I wish you had told me  _ before  _ the last possible moment, but that’s quite alright, master Bruce.” Alfred held the door for him and Jerome, watching them both closely before sliding in beside them and giving the all clear for the driver to go. He looked over Jerome, eyeing the lollipop stick sticking out from between his teeth and the arm still wrapped around Bruce’s shoulders. “I suppose this one’s behind the sticky pockets and candy wrappers I keep finding in your jacket?”

Bruce narrowly stopped himself from taking the dumdum out of his mouth as he nodded in the hopes Alfred wouldn’t comment on it. Luckily, when he found nothing proper to say, Jerome spoke.

“My foster dad’s not big on actually interacting with me or anything, but he’s pretty rich and knows I have a sweet tooth so he buys em in bulk.” he fiddles with the stick in his mouth, breaks up the candy between his teeth so it slides out clean, “I figure if my teeth are going down the drain, I should take Brucie down with me.” He winked and smiles wide, as if he didn’t have little caramel shards dotting his teeth. Bruce didn’t know if he should be embarrassed or not, but the tight look on Alfred’s brow told him probably so. “I know Bruce gave the basic intros already, but the name’s Jerome, Jerome Valeska.”

Alfred nodded, the back of the car just tight enough that he didn’t bother trying to shake his hand, “Alfred Pennyworth, Master Bruce’s guardian.” his lip quirked up, “I’m not sure I appreciate the dental sabotage, but I’m sure his dentist will.”

“Ooh, I haven’t been to a dentist in years,” Jerome said, fingers tapping on Bruce’s shoulders like he did when was thinking of ways to get a rise out of administrators. Bruce tried to nudge him, but he brushed him off, “Daddy Dearest says that he’ll take me, but I’m not sure I’ll be around long enough. Think he’s already getting tired of me.” 

Bruce mentally thanked whoever there was to thank that the ride home was relatvely short, though he knew that just brought him closer to having to have a ‘talk’ with Alfred about his new friend. He didn't trust himself to say anything without looking like an idiot and honestly, he just wanted to get out of the car as soon as he could before Jerome got bored. 


	3. Backstory Revealed (Probably)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jerome lets Bruce into some heavy secrets he's been keeping and their relationship changes a bit. ft. dumdums

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> merry cristmas babes! i promised myself i'd update and i did! yeah! HECK YEAH! 
> 
> akjdfhs pls tell me if u see any obscene errors and also! guess what bruce's favorite flavour is!

As soon as they got to the manor, Bruce grabbed Jerome’s hand and started pulling him up the stairs, telling Alfred they would be working on a project together. He definitely didn’t go red when he called up for him to keep the door open and even if he did, he would refuse to acknowledge it. Jerome didn’t seem all that bothered by his nigh uncharacteristic pushyness, no doubt fully aware of how grating he can be, especially in confined spaces. Jerome stopped him when he’d already pulled him up two tall flights of stairs, leaning against the railing and pulling his hand out of bruces like he hadn't noticed it was there.

“You’re gonna have to give me a minute, Brucie, usually places this big have elevators,” he huffed, obviously not too put out, but definitely not expecting to have to walk so much. 

“I mean, It’s an old house, I doubt anyone would want to mess with it too much, even for the convenience of an elevator, ” Bruce looked down from his empty hand to Jerome's, threading his fingers through his hair nervously, “Listen, about earlier today-”

“Not now Brucie,” Jerome pulling the dumdum out of Bruce's mouth and popping it into his own, effectively shocking him quiet, "I kinda wanted to talk to you in private y'know? Important stuff and all."

Bruce didn't like being shut up like that, still had questions and wanted answers, but he allowed it. At the very least, he should let Jerome explain on his own time. At least, that's how he rationalized it, licking at the empty space in his cheek where he tucked his candy. He hummed in agreement and they continued up the stairs. Only one more flight to go.

Bruce's room was nothing special in his mind, he didn't have many personal items laying around, just his bed, dresser, desk and bedside drawer, far more modern and boring that the rest of the house. It seems normal to him, he knows he's wealthy and has nice things, but he didn't expect to turn and see Jerome taking the room in like he hadn't just walked through 4 stairwells worth of valuable vases and paintings. He was just taken aback enough to be a little embarrassed about it, kicking around the few pieces of clothing that he'd left on his floor that morning. 

“It’s really not that great,” he said, getting Jerome’s attention, “I’m sure you’re room at your foster dad’s place is just as good.”

“Ah, not really Brucie,” Jerome mumbled, locking the door behind him, “I think you’ve got me on this one.”

Bruce sat on the bed, feeling supremely awkward and not really knowing what to do now. Usually when Selina came in she either crashed on his bed or stalked around his room while they talked, he wasn’t sure of the etiquette of having a normal friend in your room (let alone a crush). “Jerome, what did you need to-”

Jerome came up to sit beside him, the dip he made in the soft bed urging Bruce closer to him. He fished around in his pocket, pulling out Bruce's favorite flavour dumdum and passing it to him, “Brucie. You trust me, right?” He pulled the empty stick out of his mouth and popped in his own, Bruce mirrored him.

“Of course,” He didn’t think before answering, used to Jerome asking the same while urging him to join him while skipping classes or pulling pranks, “But you know that, right? What’s going on?”

Jerome watched his face with a weird look in his eye, before smiling and looking down at his feet. “We’ve been hanging out for, what, a few months now? And it’s been real fun y’know?”

Bruce felt his heart drop, not knowing where this was going. Even if he was sure Jerome wouldn’t just leave or stop being his friend, it sounded like a goodbye and the thought made his blood cold. 

“Thing is Bruce, I really like you,” Jerome turned to face him, putting his hand on top of his, stilling his fear, and looking him in the eye, short circuiting his brain. “Like,  _ really  _ like you, and I’d like to take you out.”

It took Bruce a minute to really register that Jerome had said, his mind blanking completely for a moment before he could stutter out, “I- Jerome, I really like you too.” HIs face felt like he had a fever and he honestly debated on whether or not this was a fever dream for a second. “I would  _ love  _ that.”

Jerome smiled, showing his teeth, and pulled him just a little but towards him, popping the lollipop out of his mouth and leaning in. Bruce leaned in with him until their lips just almost met, letting Jerome close the distance. He had never. Well. He never thought. He didn’t really know what he was doing. So he let Jerome do whatever he wanted and let himself drift past his panic on a mental cloud of shock and elation. It felt, at least to Bruce, like it took forever and no time at all for Jerome to move away, their lips sticking together slightly from the candy, and look at him. “You okay, Dumdum?”

It took Bruce a moment to register that Jerome was talking to him and snap out of it, “YEah! Yeah, of course.” 

“You were kind of out of it for a second,“ He laughed, holding tight to Bruce’s hand, and put his head on his shoulder. “Ugh, I wish this were easier.”

“What do you mean?” Bruce frowned. This seemed to be going pretty well so far, the hardest paart was over, right?

“I mean- I like you,” He said, voice slightly muffled into Bruce’s shoulder, “And I want to go out with you so bad. But I have to tell you something.” 

“You know you can tell me anything,” He said, his cognitive black out fading away just enough for him to feel embarrassed and self conscious about his behavior, “I promise I’ll understand.”

He felt a small shift, a smile, before Jerome picked up his head, looking about as serious as Bruce had ever seen him. “Well, get comfortable, I’ve got some stuff to explain.”

“I grew up in the circus. Like, the literal circus. My mother was a snake dancer and I would perform with her. She-” He looked away and to the floor, “She wasn’t the greatest woman, much less the greatest mother, but she was all I had. It wasn’t unusual for me to sneak out after shows, I hated going back to our trailer. She would. She would be drunk or high out of her mind, along with whatever man made his way into her bed that night, and took any excuse to hurt me or let them just for the fun of it.” 

Jerome made a pained face, silent for a moment, “We were stopped in Gotham a few months ago, before school started. After our performances, I left for the night, wandered around the city. And when I came back, mom was gone. Someone had slit her throat, mutilated her, left her outside our camp, covered in a tarp. They blamed me, obviously. I wasn’t anywhere to be seen that night and they all knew I couldn't stand her. So they left without me. Called the cops and booked it.”

Bruce felt like he should say something, but his throat felt like it was glued shut, watching Jerome's face go from pained to resigned to nervous. He said silent, holding on to Jerome’s hand, waiting for him to continue. 

“The cops thought I did it too, kept me for a long time, but they could never find any evidence. The circus was long gone, my mother was dead and any relative they could find didn’t want me. So I was stuck in the foster system, getting fumbled back and forth different apartments until they couldn't find anyone to take me in anymore. Then, they send me to Theo Galavan.” Jerome huffed, looking to Bruce, “And honestly? I’da done anything to stay with him. He’s rich as balls, got me everything I ever wanted, got his fucking  _ butlers  _ and  _ servants  _ to do everything I say. It was great. And all he asked was that I do what he said.

“Bruce, you gotta hear me out about this, don’t like, panic or anything.” He waited for Bruce to nod before continuing, “He thinks I really did kill my mom, right? And he’s got this whole ancestral revenge thing going on, he hates you and your parents like it’s his life. Like, the only time he talks to me is to talk about how much he hates you and how your fucking ancestors did his dirty or whatever. So he told me he would adopt me and let me do whatever I wanted, but only if I let him enroll me in school and make your life hell and eventually kill you.”

Jerome gave Bruce a quick second to react, his eyes widening and eyebrows raising as he went on. “Your foster father, Theo Galavan, a grown man, asked you, a teenager, to kill me, another teenager?” He asked slowly and quietly, trying to comprehend it himself. 

“Exactly, Brucie! But you know I couldn’t do that? I couldn’t even stick my knife at you, you're special,” he smiled at him, rubbing Bruce’s hand to help him through the inevitable shock of a grown man trying to kill you, “But that’s the problem. If I tell him I don't wanna do this anymore, at best he’s gonna put me back in the system. At worst? We already know he has no problem killing rich important kids like you, no one would care about a kid like me.”

“I would care,” Bruce said quietly, looking away to the other side of the bed. This was all.  _ A lot.  _ To think about. And even though he believed Jerome and knew this was a serious situation, he could feel a niggling in the back of his mind, something there that he just couldn't make out, but it was hard to think with everything he’d just learned. It was weird, he was usually so quick thinking, so sure. But this, it felt like his head was full of sand or something. 

“And that’s one of the reasons I couldn’t do it.” Jerome came in closer to him, bringing his attention back to him, “You’re special to me, Brucie! And I’d like to think I’m special to you too. So I’ve been lying to him, saying how batshit I’m driving you, trying to get him off my back for a little while longer. It’s worked for now, but I can only do this for so long.”

“That- That’s terrible. What can you do?” Bruce frowned, “I mean, you could stay here, I’m sure Alfred would understand, but you would still have to go to school and beyond that, Theo would still be out there. What-”

“Don’t worry about it, Bruce,” Jerome smirked his obnoxious, scheming smirk, “I have a plan, trust me. I just needed to tell you everything. You don’t like relationships based on lies, right?”

Bruce couldn’t help the little flair of warmth in his chest knowing Jerome had remembered him saying that and leaned in, kissing him to the best of his severely unpracticed abilities, and when he pulled away Jerome pulled him right back in. And that’s how they spent the next 30 minutes until Alfred knocked on the door, supposedly to bring snacks (but mostly to make sure that nothing untoward was going on.)

After their severely embarrassing interruption, they continued to talk. Like, in general, not about the murder thing. that would have to wait for tomorrow. And despite the glowing neon danger sign going off in his mind, Bruce felt like a weight had lifted off his shoulders. He and Jerome had laid back on the bed, legs hanging off the edge, snack tray between them, and talked about school and pranks and what they were. They liked each other right? So it would make sense for them to go out? At least, it made sense to Bruce.

“You really wanna be mine, Brucie?” Jerome looked at him, seeming genuinely confused, “After everything I’ve told you? About Theo and the circus and what I’ve been accused of?”

“Jerome, I don’t think there’s anything you could tell me that would change my mind,” he smiled, as though it were the easiest thing he’d ever said. 

Jerome looked at him, eyes searching and hard, before he smiled back, wide enough for his gums to show in a way Bruce found so endearing. “You really are perfect, aren’t ya?”


	4. Honeymooning ft. A Cuss Word (or two)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce gets angry and he and Jerome are actually sickening.   
Bruce become more cognizant of how he's changed since he became friends with Jerome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hnnng this is a almost as long as all the other chapters put together and i still feel like i could have filled it out more but yknow what, its fine, im still happy with it. bruce blushed a /lot/ because i think blushing is cute.   
I sure hope yall like this chapter! pls tell me if you see any obvious mistakes!

Jerome left before dinner, refusing an offer for a ride home, not wanting to tip Theo off. He kissed him before going out the door, just out of Alfred’s view, and Bruce watched him make his way down to the edge of the property, disappearing in the darkness far too soon for his liking. He walked to the dining room slowly, not wanting to talk about his relationship with Jerome, at least not when it was as... new. As it was. He kind of wanted to keep it to himself for now, but he knew that that wasn’t really possible with Alfred. 

The table was set when he came and sat down, Alfred waiting as politely as one could when preparing to ambush you. They ate in thankful silence for a moment before Alfred stopped eating to pick at his food, staring him down. 

"So," Bruce figured he should start, "Jerome." He popped a bit of food in his mouth, mostly as an excuse to not say anything else. 

"Yes, indeed. Jerome." His butler looks impressively unimpressed, “So, what was that  _ project  _ you two had to work on?”

“It’s a packet for science,” Bruce felt kind of bad lying, but he was pretty sure Jerome did have a packet due in biology, “He wanted my help on it because it’s already due.”

“Ah, I see,” Alfred nodded, watching him, “And how exactly did you and Mr. Valeska meet again?”

“I was asked to help him out and we kind of hit it off from there, I guess?” Bruce looked away from Alfred, still feeling his eyes bore into him. 

“Alrigthy then,” Alfred looked back down to his food, taking a bite. Bruce cautiously let himself do the same, peeking up to look at Alfred every so often as the silence stretched on between them. He almost dared to think that this conversation could be over and they could have a nice dinner when Alfred spoke again, "Although, if I remember right, weren't you asked by the  _ principal  _ to make sure he didn't continue to damage school property."

Bruce held in a groan, very much not wanting to have this conversation. "He's really not that bad-"

"Didn't he fill a classroom room with snakes? Do thousands of dollars of damages to cars in the parking lot?" Alfred was looking at him sternly, lips pressed tight together. 

"No!" Bruce immediately spoke. He could feel his face heating up as he relented, "The snakes were in the auditorium."

He could tell without looking up that Alfred was in no way impressed. "And you decided to have that boy over? For  _ homework help? _ " 

"He's really not that bad, Alfred." He spoke without thinking, trying to get his face to cool down, "He's really nice and funny and cool and he's just got a lot going on, most of his pranks aren't that bad-"

"Master Bruce.” Alfred spoke his serious voice that always made Bruce feel like a child, “Is it too much to ask that you make _ one  _ friend without a criminal record? All of the fine young men in the city and you decided to be best friends with  _ him? _ ”

“THERE'S NOTHING WRONG WITH HIM.” Bruce didn’t mean for that to come out as loud as it did, but he felt his blood boil hearing him talk bad about Jerome. He let himself breath for a moment in the silence before continuing, “It’s not fair to judge him so harshly when you’ve only met him once. He’s dealt with enough of that in his life. Jerome is- he’s a good friend and I care about him a lot.”

He ducked his head down to try and hide how out of it he felt (and to try and ignore Alfred watching him), a long silence stretching between them. Finally, Bruce stood, taking his plate to the sink as he mumbled, “I’m pretty full, I think I’ll head up to bed,” passing Alfred by without looking at him.

  
  


Making it up to his room, Bruce closed the door to his room as quietly as he could, not wanting to give Alfred any reason to come up or think he was upset. Which, like, he wasn’t? He was just kind of flustered. He didn’t know why he got so defensive on Jerome’s behalf, but thinking back, he’d done the same with Selina a few times. But, it was normal to try and defend your friends right? He’d done it for Selina and Ivy more than once, it wasn’t weird, especially not when they were- more than friends? Boyfriends? The thought made Bruce’s stomach flutter in the most embarrassing way possible. 

He went to lay on his bed, the warmth from him and Jerome laying together already having disappeared. He knew logically that it wouldn't be warm anymore, but something in him kind of hoped? God, he was an idiot. Without looking, Bruce felt around on his bed for his phone, opening it up and sort of hoping that Jerome had texted him, the thought giving him an oddly sweet taste in his mouth. Well, no such luck, but thinking about it, he really should send Selina a message about everything that had happened.

**Dork king**

Selina! I think i have a boyfriend.

**Selina**

Did u finally pop the question or did red have to nut up for u?

**Dork king**

I- that was kind of rude. 

**Selina**

So i was right, he asked.

**Dork king**

You don't even know if i was talking about him!

**Selina**

Dude he's all u talk about anymore. Get a hobby.

Bruce could swear he could hear Selina laughing at him and honestly, he couldn't blame her, the last while of their text log was him gushing about Jerome. He couldn’t help it though, he was always on his mind for some reason. He scrolled back through their conversation for a little while, rereading things and smiling at old jokes, before he noticed a new notification.

**Selina**

So what does alfred think of all this? 

**Selina**

He does know right?

**Dork king**

He knows that we’re friends...

**Selina**

This is gonna blow up in ur face so fucking bad

**Dork king**

He doesn’t even like Jerome, how was I supposed to tell him we’re kind of dating now?

**Dork king**

Besides, I kind of like having it be secret right now. It feels good having it between us.

**Selina**

U know im a person right? So its not really a secret anymore

**Dork king**

Yeah, but you’re my best friend, it doesn’t count. 

They talked back and forth for a while longer, until Selina had to outright tell him to get to bed or skip school the next morning, and Bruce wasn’t keen on ruining his good attendance (or missing an opportunity to see Jerome but six of one and all that,) so he went to sleep and Selina went off to do whatever it is she does at night. 

  
  


The next morning was awkward to say the least, him and Alfred both dancing around anything relating to last night or apologizing in any way. Honestly, Bruce was pretty sure talking about it would have made things worse, so being dropped off as school was a major relief. He waited for a few minutes in front of the school, just in case, but had to go in soon, needing to get to his locker before first period. He didn’t  _ expect  _ to be jumped as soon as he walked in, but he wasn’t surprised at all.

He was just getting to his locker when he felt arms slung around him and he was being picked up off the ground, just enough to freak him out. He yelped despite himself and struggled until he was put down, arms still holding him tight and a familiar laugh being muffled against his back. "You're such a jerk."

"I don't hear you complaining, darlin'," Jerome gave him a squeeze before letting go, keeping one arm around Bruce in it's usual place while the other dug through his pockets, predictably for candy. He popped one dumdum in his own mouth and another in Bruce's, his mouth already open just that little bit when he saw the candy.

"Darling?" Bruce questioned, the word giving him a funny feeling in his chest, "Is that like, a thing you're doing now?" He didn't want to say that he loved it, but he's pretty sure Jerome could tell.

"What, not your style?" Jerome smiled down at him, eyes shining, "How about baby? Or sweets? Ooh, or kitten?"

"Ugh, no i feel like i'm being catcalled, just stick with darling, please," he leaned into Jerome's arm, completely forgetting what he was going to grab from his locker, and started walking with him to Jerome's first class. "Do the sudden pet names come with the going out package or are you trying something new?"

“I’ve wanted to call you mine for awhile now,” Jerome leaned over to press a kiss to his head, sending him reeling, “Now I know it’s mutual, don’t have to hold myself back anymore. I can be as clingy as I want.”

Bruce felt like he was on cloud nine, face undoubtedly bright red as he tried not to act like an idiot, “If that was you holding yourself back, I don’t know how I’m gonna deal with you now. ”

“You better find a way, because you’re not getting rid of me anytime soon,” Jerome pulled him up for a kiss as they got closer to his classroom and even though he knew they were the only two in the hall, he felt like they were being watched. Sooner than he would have liked, they separated and Jerome ruffled his hair before giving him a ‘text me later’ and heading into his class, leaving Bruce alone. 

Alone wasn't exactly a new state for Bruce, but it was one he was becoming increasingly unused to. It almost felt weird to walk to class (he just knew he was gonna be late) and not have a certain someone leaning over him. Apparently, the rest of the student body was just as used to seeing him with Jerome because not a hall down from his classroom (and he was  _ definitely  _ late by now), he was stopped by none other than Tommy freaking Elliot, sans idiot goons for once. 

“Where’s your shadow, Wayne?” One of the boys to his side asked, blocking him from going around the group, “Valeska finally ditch you?”

“No, I dropped him off at his first period,” He held tight to the strap of his bag, trying very hard to hold back the impulse to snark at them, feeling his dumdum crunch under his teeth as his jaw clenched. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to get to my own now.”

He tried to get past the group again but was stopped again, Tommy putting an arm out in front of him, looking down at him as if he had anything worthwhile to say. “So, you’re too good for the rest of us but you follow  _ Valeska  _ around like a fucking dog.” 

“If you’re keeping me here and making me late to class just to say how badly you want to be my friend, I think you have bigger problems,” Bruce pushed his arm away, going past and moving away from any hands that tried to swipe out to grab at him, well sick and tired of dealing with them already. "Besides, I'd pick Jerome over you anyday." Whatever it was that Tommy shouted after him, Bruce didn't hear, walking as quick as he could to get to his class and apologize to his teacher for being late  _ again.  _

After getting to class and having a talk with his teacher about why he was late, making sure to let her know it was all Tommy’s fault, he was too self conscious to really pay attention, let alone take out his phone, telling himself he would text Jerome during passing period or in his next class. Stepping out of the classroom, Bruce was digging through his bag to find his phone when he bumped into someone else, nearly falling back before he was caught. He looked up, about to apologize again when he caught bright red hair and a cool smile. “I- I was just about to text you.” He huffed, watching Jerome’s eyes move over him. 

“You get tied up in class or something?” he questioned, looking from Bruce to the kids milling around them, some watching them from the corners of their eyes, “I tried texting you.”

He dug into his bag, pulling out his phone and saw two notifications from Jerome, sent near the beginning of class. “Sorry! I was late to class because Tommy was being a dick and I guess i didn-”

“Tommy  _ what? _ ” Jerome interrupted, leaning closer into him. He wasn’t smiling anymore, his eyes hard and intense in a way Bruce didn’t have directed at him often. It sent a weird feeling down his back, even knowing it wasn’t really directed at him. He resisted the urge to shrunk back a bit and steeled himself, knowing he had to answer. 

“He stopped me on my way to my class,” He tried to to talk to fast, not wanting to seem nearly as nervous as he actually was (why, he couldn’t tell), “He was trying to get a rise out of me, saying I follow you around like a dog and that I think I’m better than them.” 

Jerome let up a little, staying close to him but letting his shoulders relax, giving him a smile. “Well Tommy can go eat dirt, 'cus you know what?” he leaned in and gave him a quick kiss, lips sticky from eating candy at 9 in the morning like a child, “You  _ are  _ better than them. And you’d make the cutest puppy.”

Bruce couldn’t help laughing at that, Jerome pulling him close as he did, arm around him like usual to get to their next classes. Jerome led them down to Bruce’s biology class, coming in with him, much to Ms. Diogen’s displeasure. She didn’t say anything, Jerome staring her down until she started her lesson for the day and the 2 sat at Bruce’s workstation, one to actually do his work and the other to watch and try to sabotage others. 

They talked quietly, or at least tried to, while Bruce worked, looking over mold samples and recording what had changed from the last lesson and making small changes here and there, Jerome pulling him away from the samples every so often to pull down his mask and give him a taste of his dumdum (and sometimes a kiss when no one was watching). It would be obnoxiously sweet and coupley if anyone else did it, but when it was between them, he didn’t mind. 

Bruce was just finishing up, writing out the notes Ms.Diogen had left on the board when he heard someone exclaim just behind him, catching the teacher’s attention as well. As she came to their workstations, Jerome slid behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist, smiling into his hair. 

“What’s going on,” Ms.Diogen asked, looking between Jerome and the kid at the station behind him. Bruce turned as best as he could, Jerome still hanging off of him, leaning against him to watch what was going on. The boy at the other workstation was glaring at Jerome, holding onto a ruined mold sample.

“Valeska ruined my control sample!” He held the sample out to the teacher who took one look at it before turning to Jerome.

“What did you do to Mr. Brown’s sample?” She asked sharply, obviously done with dealing with Jerome for the day, no doubt dreading his own period in her classroom that afternoon.

“I didn’t do anything,” he said, surprisingly convincing, as if he genuinely had no idea what was going on and was offended that he was being blamed. “I’ve been over here, talkin’ with Brucie this whole time.” He gave Bruce a little squeeze to emphasis his point, making his face light up. 

“Bullshit! He was  _ just  _ over here, messing with my stuff!” The kid sputtered, and honestly, Bruce couldn't blame him. They’d been working on this project for weeks now and they all had different kinds of mold so he couldn’t even use someone else's control. 

“Language,” The teacher snapped at him before looking at Bruce, “Mr. Wayne. Has Mr. Valeska been here with you this  _ whole time?  _ There’s no way he could have tampered with Mr. Brown’s sample?” She watched him, lips tight, obviously expecting a certain answer. 

“Yes, mam, he’s been with me the whole time,” he lied without thinking about it too hard, he was mostly telling the truth anyway, only feeling a small bit of guilt in the bottom of his gut, “we’ve been talking.”

She looked between the three of them with hard eyes before turning back to the kid, “Do you have anyone to back up your side of the story?”

The kid looks disbelievingly at Bruce, mouth open as if he could argue. He turned to the other kid at his workstation, but when he looked over, Bruce could swear he heard a small click at Jerome’s side and the kid shook his head just that little bit too fast. Did Bruce particularly like Jerome threatening people right next to him? No. Was he used to it enough not to bother saying anything about it? Yes. 

Ms. Diogen’s looked between them all again before telling the kid to just copy over the trend he’d already recorded and she wouldn’t take it off his grade. She gave Jerome a snippy warning not to misbehave in her class or mess with student’s things before going back to her desk, completely unwilling to deal with them any further. Jerome nodded and smiled as close to innocently as he could, flashing his teeth at the kid as he glared at the both of them. The kid huffed and turned away, knowing that he couldn’t pick a fight with him and win, going back to his work.

Bruce figured he had done all he could that period and started cleaning up his station, giving Jerome a look as he took his mask off (they weren’t required, but the mold made him nervous). He just smiled and blew him a kiss, pulling himself up to sit on the workstation until class was over. 

When they left class, Jerome stopping them on the way to drop his overdue packet off at the teacher's desk, Bruce snorted, laughing into his hand as Jerome pulled him under his arm. “Jerome! That was almost a month’s worth of mold growth, why?”

“It’s not like she’s counting it off his grade, dumdum,” He scoffed, leading them to Jerome’s next class, “Besides he was giving us looks all period, maybe now he’ll mind his own business.”

“Valeska! Wayne!” 

“Or maybe he needs another lesson,” Jerome turned them around, smiling too wide to really be a smile, baring his teeth at the kid. 

“What the fuck was that?” He snapped at them, drawing looks from other students passing through the halls.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Jerome stepped closer to the kid, making him shrink back, “you mean when you messed up your own project and tried to blame me? Honestly, I’m hurt.”

The kid looked to Bruce, “I know I can’t expect any better from  _ him,  _ but what the fuck, Wayne? Why are you standing up for this creep?”

Jerome was about to step forward again when Bruce beat him to it, stepping out from under his arm and getting a little too close to the kid for either of their comfort, “All I remember is you trying to blame my  _ friend  _ for your own incompetence,” he glared at the kid, lucky they were about the same size so he wasn’t craning his neck at him. He tried to channel as much of Jerome as he could as he spoke, “I would suggest you leave us alone before you break more than your petri dish.”

He stared him down, forcing the kid to turn around and go the other way. He stood there for a minute, a weird heavy feeling in his stomach as he watched him walk away, the others in the hall whispering among themselves. Maybe he should have apologized or just told the truth in the first place-

“Nice one, Darlin’!” Jerome came up behind him, wrapping his arms around him, pulling him out of his thoughts, “I think I like you standing up for me like that, my knight in shining armor.” 

Bruce smiled, opening his mouth for Jerome when he brought him out another dumdum. The sweet taste soothed him a little, making him forget whatever was bothering him. “I just don’t like people talking bad about you, it’s not your fault they don't know how great you are.” 

“You keep sweet talking me, Brucie, you’ll have to bridal carry me to class,” he winked at him, leading them both off down the hall.

In Jerome’s class, they were doing a Socratic seminar, all the desks pushed into one big circle and they  _ all  _ had to participate, giving and answering questions about their book. Bruce didn’t feel right just sitting there, so he joined in, having read the book last year anyways. He was actually surprised when Jerome participated at all, not expecting him to have bothered reading the book. Evidently, no one else expected him to either. 

“It’s not fair if he gets to have Wayne next to him, giving him answers,” some kid, Irene he thinks, hisses to a girl next to her, loud enough for them and the teacher to hear. The teacher, Mr. Ross, rolled his eyes, just asking Bruce to move a desk over, putting some poor kid in between them. Irene looks smug enough that Bruce doesn’t feel especially bad when he sees Jerome glare at her, eyes cold enough that he can see the shiver running down her. 

“Y’know, I’ve been thinking about Adam,” Jerome stares right at her, grabbing at the kid next to him’s copy of the question packet. Every class that read Frankenstein was asked to think of a name for the monster, Bruce’s class had chosen Lenny and Jerome‘s chose Adam. “I know that we’ve already talked about how he’s like Adam and all, first man of a species, cast out on his own or whatever, but I think it’s only fair we compare him to Satan too.”

Bruce looked over at him from behind the kid between them, pulling out his phone while the class groaned.

**Jerome**

Hey brucie, you make it to class already?

**Jerome**

Darlin?

**DumDum**

Are you really about to do this? Just because she called you a cheater?

**Jerome**

Hell yeah, i am, babe. You know I never ignore a challenge. 

  
  


“I’m just saying, If you look over our whole  _ list  _ of comparison, I can see them fitting even better with satan. Hell, He reads Paradise Lost  _ In the book. _ ” Jerome flipped to another page of the kid’s packet, showing off the list they had written out a couple class periods ago, “Adam was sent out of the garden alone? Okay, but he had Eve. The monster had no one, just like satan. He was cast out by his creator, was jealous and resentful of humanity-”

**Dumdum**

Look at her, the whole class looks miserable.

**Jerome**

If they don’t like my point, they can say something

**Dumdum **

You know very well none of them are going to say anything. 

**Jerome**

Perks of being the best, Darling.

“And of course you could say that the point is that he’s both reminiscent of Adam and Satan, the whole duality of man bullshit, but just going point by point, he still has more in common with-”

**Dumdum **

When did you even read the book? I thought it wouldn’t be your thing.

**Jerome **

Foster dads got an audiobook of it, had to pass some time at the house

**Dumdum **

And Paradise Lost?

**Jerome**

I’ve gotta keep some air of mystery don’t I? Fraid that’s a trade secret.

“He’s still texting Bruce,” Irene interrupted, pointing to the two of them, no doubt looking for any reason to make Jerome stop talking. “He’s probably still cheating, can we please get on with the seminar?”

“Jerome, I've already asked you not to text in class,” Mr. Ross pinched the bridge of his nose, coming over to him and asking him to hand him his phone to make sure he wasn't cheating. Jerome compiled for what was perhaps the first since he'd gotten to this school and passed it to him, smiling out at Irene the whole time. "Irene, there's nothing here that would have helped him cheat. Jerome, please put your phone away." 

The rest of the school day (and the rest of the week) was spent much the same way, with them switching back and forth between going to Bruce’s classes and Jerome’s, both wanting to spend as much time together as possible, even as the whispers about them in the hall got louder. They skipped lunch, going to sit together outside where Bruce usually went to see Selina, cracking jokes and making out. Bruce knew that new couples went through an annoying ‘honeymoon phase’ when they got together, he’d seen enough seniors sneaking off into locker rooms and freshman eating each others faces in the hallways, but any thought of being embarrassed melted away when he was with Jerome.

He got called to the counselors office once in all of this, on Wednesday, to talk about his behavior as of late, why he’d been skipping classes and hanging around Jerome as often as he had. He bit his lip, knowing Jerome was sitting right outside the office, probably snarking off at the office workers. 

“Well, Jerome goes to more classes when I go with him,” He started, trying not to sound like he was making excuses, “He’s been turning in more work, as well. When I go with him I can help him pay attention and even though I’ve been missing some classes, I still get all of my work turned in.”

“Do you have anything to say for the numerous pranks and practical ‘jokes’ that we believe Mr. Valeska has played since you’ve become friends?” He looked at him, pen tapping on the notes he was taking on what Bruce said.

“I can’t say that every prank you think Jerome did is really his fault, but even with them, he’s been significantly less destructive since we became friends,” he smiled, genuinely proud that Jerome hadn’t been as ‘bad’ as he was at the beginning of the year, that he’d had a good influence on him. 

The counselor nodded, but looked sceptical, sending him off after a few more questions, watching him through the doorway and he left, Jerome following close behind.

  
  


On Friday, Bruce was walking out to the courtyard for lunch by himself, Jerome saying he’d meet him there and that he had ‘stuff to take care of’, though Bruce has a sneaking suspicion that said ‘stuff’ had to do with whoever Jerome had been glaring at over his shoulder in the hallway. He’d gotten a little lax in his distaste for Jerome’s more delinquent actions, finding it hard to care when he heard him pull out his knife or saw the aftermath of Jerome’s pranks or ‘payback’. Maybe it was the Honeymoon Phase, or maybe Jerome had as much of an influence on him as he’d had on him. Either way, they were going to hang out at the manor over the weekend and he was kind of excited to find out if they were actually going to do anything together or just make out and watch Netflix the whole time.

“Bruce?” 

He turned to whoever had called after him, taking the bare lollipop stick out of his mouth and into his pocket, seeing some girl he’d seen around the halls every so often but had never talked to. She was pretty enough, light but dense freckles all over her face, uniform buttoned up all the way to the top in a way not many people bothered with. She had a friendly smile though, so he smiled back. “Hello? I don’t think we’ve met.”

“My name is Silver, Silver St. Cloud. I just transferred in a few weeks ago.” She introduced, Holding out a hand he took with a smile and his name. “I’ve seen you around school, heard some rumors. You seem pretty cool.”

“Good things, I hope,” He joked, but the reminder of the whispers and rumors that had spread around the school soured his mood a bit, “I haven’t heard much about you, but you seem nice.”

They talked for a few minutes, he asked how her classes were going, what she thought of the school and everything seemed just fine. As they talked, she was getting a little too close for comfort, but he figured she was just a touchy person like Jerome or maybe she had a little crush on him, nothing he couldn’t handle. Every so often, he would let his eyes drift over to the school door to see if Jerome was coming soon. Everything seemed just fine until Silver asked, “So, what’s up with that guy you hang out with, Jerome?”

Bruce didn’t mean to get as defensive as he did, it could have been a totally innocent question, but he felt his brain stop for a second. “What do you mean?”

“It’s just,” she bit her lip, looking around them like she was making sure no one was listening in, “I’ve seen him in the city before, hanging out in alleys and I even caught him shoplifting once. I just don’t see why a guy as sweet as you would be hanging out with such a delinquent.”

A small part of him did worry about Jerome being out on the streets, but instead of thinking of what he could be, he remembered Jerome telling about the circus, how he would stay out all night, anything to keep him from going back. The thought made his heart hurt and all that hurt turned to anger. “I really don’t think it’s fair to judge him based on thing’s like that when you don’t know them,” He tried not to show how messed up he felt, but if Silver’s face was anything to go by, he didn’t hide it too well. 

“Why are you upset?” She got closer to him, placing a hand on his arm, “even if I don’t know him, it’s not hard to see that he’s a criminal. Have you heard the things he’d done? What they say he did to his mother?”

“Have you?” Bruce pulled his arm away, suddenly feeling uncomfortable and boxed in, “You can’t just make judgement calls on who people are without knowing them, based on rumors and guesses, it’s not fair-”

“Bruce listen to yourself!” She looked at him incredulously, holding onto his arm again, “Why are you defending him! Think of the things he’s destroyed, the people he’s hurt! Everyone knows the only reason they even keep him at this school is because his foster dad is paying them off-”

“Stop talking about him like he’s a  _ villain, _ ” Bruce pulled away, stepping back from her. “That’s my  _ fucking boyfriend _ , stop acting like he’s a second class citizen. I thought you were nice, that maybe we could have been friends, but if that’s the way you treat others, if you make horrible character judgements before you even meet them, I don’t think I want to be your friend.” 

Silver looked at him like he was crazy before running off, tears in her eyes. Bruce couldn’t bring himself to care, watching her run out of his eye line doing nothing to curb the burning in his chest. He was about to turn away when Jerome came sprinting out of the building like it was on fire (though he trusted Jerome not to set the school on fire, or at least tell him first). 

Jerome came up to him and immediately checked him over, looking more scared than he thinks he’s ever seen him. “What just happened” Why was she talking to you?”

“Do you know her?” Bruce asked, watching Jerome’s face as he made sure he was okay, “she said she was a new student, Silver something. She started talking to me, wanting to be friends or something, but she started talking bad about, saying you were a criminal and treating you like you weren’t good enough to be around me and I-”

The moment that Bruce realized he had told Silver Jerome was his boyfriend, his face fell. He buried his face into his hands, groaning. “I told her you were my boyfriend. I’ve never even said that  _ out loud. _ ”

“ _ Fuck.  _ Fuck, this isn’t gonna be good. _ ”  _ Jerome breathed, catching Bruce's attention immediately. He looked up at him, worried, Jerome’s face pinched and serious. “ Silver is Theo’s bitch of a niece,” He sneers, “She lives with us, he probably sent her to try and suck up to you, try and lure you in and get your guard down.”

Bruce felt his heart stop, the words running in his head. “I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-,” He was about to go spiraling into blaming himself for the inevitable trouble Jerome would have to go through when the rest of that he said registered in his mind. He thought Silver was nice before she started talking about Jerome. He had hoped they could be friends. “God, what a-” he tried to think of anything that felt right to call her, “What a  _ bitch! _ ” 

Even in the middle of this genuinely upsetting past few minutes, Jerome looked at him, a smile cracking through his serious face, “Darlin’, did you just call her a bitch?” He grabbed Bruce’s face, pulling him in for a quick kiss, “That’s the first curse word I’ve ever heard you say, I’m so proud.”

Bruce felt like he was short circuiting, leaning in against Jerome, "I think I called you 'my fucking boyfriend', actually, so it's my second." 

"Fuck, I think hearing that made it worth it." 

They stayed out in the courtyard for the rest of the day, not even wanting to risk running into Silver for the rest of the day. Their mood was lower than usual, the fog of what would happen once Jerome had to go home hanging over both of their heads. When the day ended, Bruce pulled Jerome over to him, kissing him to the best of his abilities (he was only a week into the whole kissing thing) and making him promise to text him if anything happened. He watched Jerome walk away, feeling his heart sink as he disappeared from view. He only stood when he saw Alfred pull up in front of the school. 

He waited all afternoon for a message from Jerome, sending an embarrassing amount of texts when he started getting anxious, but none came. He waited downstairs all Saturday so he could answer the door if Jerome showed up, then stayed in his room all Sunday when he didn’t. He was just looking forward to being able to see him on Monday. 

Jerome didn’t show up on Monday.


	5. Apple Blossoms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce is going to have to confront his own emotions some day, but today is not that day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is actually only 3/4 of what I had in the chapter outline but once it hit 5000 words i knew i was gonna have to cut it T.T im so sorry. as always, if you see any mistakes, please tell me! I can barely grammar check 3000 words, 6000 would kill me.
> 
> ALSO. minor spoilers for the chapter, theres something that has to do with a certain character wearing a collar in this chapter. I know it's not necessary, but as an adult writing writing about a 16 year old (even if i'm only 19), I feel like it should be said this isn't a build up for a kinky thing later on. It's actually based off a real thing i did irl with a friend in middle school because I'm a possessive weirdo. don't collar your friends, kids.

Jerome doesn’t show up on Monday. 

He asked around the office, in class, even debated on asking Tommy, but no one had seen him since Friday and coincidently, Silver hadn’t shown up either. Bruce waited out in front of the school for longer than he knew he should have, feeling like his chest was caving further in every minute, not going in until he knew he was well and late for first period. He apologized to his teacher for being late and sat down, the world around him seeming to grey out as he did. He made a token effort at first, but he couldn't pay attention in any of his classes, lessons and lectures going in one ear and out the other. 

He was constantly looking around the halls for any sign of Jerome, kept his phone held tight in his hand with the ringer on (just in case), anxiety he thought he’d left behind months ago coming back in full force. His brain felt like static. He hadn't spoken to Selina in days, the thought of answering calls or texts from anyone but Jerome putting a sour taste in his mouth. 

When Alfred comes to pick him up, he tries to get him to talk, asks about his day, whether he’s talked to Selina, what he wants for dinner, but it all falls flat. He can barely think, his mind constantly running worst case scenarios and what ifs and images of dark alleyways and bright red against gravel putting the taste of vinegar and metal in his mouth. It takes everything in him not to start panicking at the dinner table before he gets up to go to bed early, eyes already watering when he checks his phone in the dark of his bedroom and almost blinds himself, tears pooling in his eyes the next three times he does the same thing. He let’s the tears fall, but doesn’t let himself cry in any way that matters, hasn’t in a long while now, not in over a year. He curled in on himself until he’s too exhausted to keep watch for any texts, only closing his eyes to pretend to sleep when he heard knocking at his window. 

**Selina**

hey, r u good? uve been pretty quiet lately

**Selina**

pick up, dummy

**Selina**

Seriously

**Selina**

bruce, are you okay?

**Selina**

bruce pls answer

  
  


He dreams about Jerome, laying out in the school courtyard with him, smiling and laughing and pulling him down for long, deep kisses that tasted like bubblegum and root beer and blu raspberry and butterscotch all at once. The Jerome in his dream looks down at him with his bright smile, his real smile, not a suck up grin or scheming smirk, and lets him reach up and trace his thin white scars, tells him about the circus and his best pranks and hours of little things about him that he can take in easy, the constant, paranoid buzz of real life fading into the back of his mind.

  
  


He woke up exhausted, far later than he was meant to, Alfred having to come up and wake him when he slept through his alarm, and the fog in his head doesn’t show any signs of clearing anytime soon. He dressed and went down stairs without thinking, gripping his phone a bit tighter than he probably should have. He picked at his breakfast, all he could taste was sawdust, completely missing any questions Alfred tried to ask him, not even noticing when he got into the car without his bag. He felt horrible, staring out the window without seeing anything passing him by. When they pulled up to the school, Bruce got out without saying anything, eyes to the ground. He heard Alfred drive away as he walked towards the building, knowing in the back of his mind that he had stayed to watch him for a few seconds, that he was worried. 

He stood in front of the school until the first bell had already rung, ignoring the fading stream of students heading inside, eyes blurring the longer he watched out for any sign of bright red hair or a crooked smile. Eventually, Bruce had to head inside, eyes stuck to the ground. He felt like his ears were ringing, a painfully sour note drowning out everything else when he walked into the school building, only vaguely glad that the halls were clear so he wouldn’t have to deal with anyone for the blessed few minutes it would take for him to get to class.

Bruce came to his locker, pressing his forehead to the cold metal, and was about to take a few breaths and go to class when he felt someone press against him from behind. His first thought was that Tommy was playing some nasty joke or some creep senior thought he could get away with touching him, it wouldn't be the first time he had to put up with people who thought invading his space constituted a joke, but when he turned around all he saw was a dirty, rumbled uniform, negative space scars on dense freckles and bright red hair and a tired, crooked smile and  _ Jerome.  _

The first thing he felt was relief, seeing Jerome’s face after 4 days wiping the bittersour taste from his mouth, the static in his mind fading, his legs wanting to give out as the constant strain of worry was momentarily lifted. The next thing, he didn’t have time to feel, his concern about where Jerome had been, what had happened, wiped away from his mind as Jerome pulled him in for a kiss.

And  _ god,  _ he tasted sugar sweet and sticky and honestly, like he hadn’t brushed his teeth in a few days, but Bruce thought he was going to explode, there was something about it that he didn’t want to lose, like he needed it. He didn’t want to let him go, wrapping his arms around him so he couldn’t pull back, taking in Jerome’s warmth and smell and taste for as long as he could until Jerome broke away, ducking down to mouth under his shirt collar.

He could feel the heat in his face moving down his chest but he didn’t do anything, leaning up against the locker as he let Jerome do what he wanted, but not exactly understanding. It felt weird and ticklish, surprise surprise, very few people tended to touch him on the neck, especially not with their mouths, and  _ especially not with their teeth.  _ Bruce jumped a bit when Jerome bit him without warning, but he didn’t move away, waited for Jerome to unlatch himself and look at him. 

“I’ve got a lot to say, Brucie,” He bent down to pick up a bag at his feet, swinging an arm around Bruce that he didn’t think he would miss a few months ago, “Let’s head somewhere a little more private.”

Bruce followed, he always followed, down the hall to the nearest boys bathroom. He couldn’t help but smile when Jerome went banging on stalls, kicking out anyone who was inside, and locking the door behind them, not even thinking about if he would have disapproved before. They sat on the cold ground, leaning against the door, Bruce settling against Jerome’s side, the bag lying across their laps.

He looked up at him, counting the freckles on his nose and watching the small scrapes on his cheeks move with his face, feeling content despite himself. He looked down at their hands beside each other, debating on whether it would be cheesy to put them together, when he looked up to see Jerome watching him, eyebrow cocked. He moved away his hand, pushing the idea out of his mind in embarrassment. He wanted to open his mouth and say something, to break the silence and get to what they came here for, but Jerome beat him to it, grabbing his hand and dragging it between them, forcing Bruce to realize this is the first time they’d held hands since that evening at the manor. 

“I’ve been gone for awhile,” Jerome started, watching their hands with a nearly out of character soft look, “I didn’t mean to, Darlin’, things just went a little faster than I planned.”

“What happened?” He asked, holding his hand and trying not to think about all the things he had imagined happening these past few days, the worst cases that came into his mind without warning.

“Silver happened, the bitch.” He sneered for a moment, “She got home first, told Galavan about us. I tried to make excuses, tell him I had a plan Silver didn’t understand, but he’d never take my side over hers.”

Jerome patted the bag across their laps, “I figured it’d happen eventually, just not yet. Theo attacked me and when I ran, he sent his weird bodyguard sister after me so I couldn’t go back. I’d been collecting evidence since we got to being friends, though, hid it all in this bag in some old building so they wouldn’t find it. I’ve been hiding out in the city with it for the past few days, made some friends I’d like you to meet.”

“So you can’t go back?” Bruce swallowed, the bag suddenly feeling twice as heavy, knowing what was in it, “I- You could stay with me, you know? I could take you in at the manor any time.”

Jerome turned his head to bury his nose in Bruce’s hair, the move sweet on one hand, but on the other, making him that much more aware of the fact he hadn’t washed his hair in days, “We both know your butler would kill me, Darlin’, but thanks for the offer.”

Bruce bit his lip, debating on bringing up an old investment. “I think, if you want,” he looked off to the side, he’d never lied to Jerome before and he was terrified he could tell, “I think I know how to find you a place you can stay, we’d just have to go talk with Selina. I can’t explain it very well, but we can go over to her place later.”

He didn’t see him, but he could feel Jerome’ eyes on him, “That’d be really sweet, babe.” He stood up, pulling Bruce with him, swinging the bag over his shoulder. He smiled, as close to nervous and Bruce had ever seen him, “I, uh, I got you something while I was gone.”

He unzipped a pocket of the bag and pulled out a little cardboard box, handing it to Bruce. “I thought about getting you a necklace or something but uh, I didn’t really have any money at the time and I think it’s close enough, I just-” he huffed, looking up at him, eyes pinning him in place, “But when I saw you with Silver, saw her hanging off you, trying to get you to like her and it drove me fucking insane, I just. I wanted to get you something to show that you’re mine, my boyfriend.”

Bruce felt like he couldn’t breath, holding the weak box tight in his hand. Jerome had gotten him something, a gift to show he was his, even when he was running and hiding from some madman’s bodyguard, had called him his  _ boyfriend  _ for the first time. He looked between Jerome and the box, swallowing and cutting open the strips of tape holding the box together to see- a long strip of fabric with a clasp on each side. He took it out of the box to feel it, the black fabric actually a sewn tube with a strip of what felt like nylon inside, the clasps a thick black plastic and in the center on it, a metal D ring. It took him a moment to realize he was holding a collar. A dog collar. Made for dogs. 

Part of him felt like this was a strange thing to get your boyfriend, but another, larger part of him was still stuck in the sweet feeling that Jerome got it for him, that he wanted to give him something to show that he was his. It was a bit like a choker, he realtionalized, it was still basically a necklace so it wasn’t weird. It was the first non-edible gift Jerome ever got him, and he hadn't expected something so simple to leave him so out of it. He hadn’t realized how long he’d been quiet until Jerome spoke again, quieter this time.

“I know it might sound weird but,” Jerome huffed, the corner of his lip ticking up just a bit, “It’d make me real happy if you wore it, even if it’s just under your shirt, no one'd have to see it, just-” 

Bruce pulled him down by his uniform, kissing him quiet before he said anything embarrassing himself because he’d never felt so in love with anyone before and it was driving him up the wall and made him want to scream. He moved his hands to tangle into Jerome’s hair, the days old product keeping it held back giving way to his fingers. He could feel Jerome smile into the kiss, one hand moving down his back, untucking and sliding up his shirt, and the other coming up to ruin his hair in turn. 

He wanted to wear the collar, the idea of keeping it under his uniform or his turtlenecks, something that was just for him and Jerome made his head spin. He felt like he was melting, the butterflies and warmth he felt near Jerome amplified by their time apart and now scared he had been, he didn’t want to let him go and he probably wouldn’t have if the bell ringing hadn’t shocked him into breaking the kiss.

Jerome pulled back to look at him, hair in his face, cheeks and lips stained pink and Bruce couldn’t help wishing he could have taken a picture of him right then. Jerome ran his fingers through his hair and down his side for a bit longer, smiling down at him, “Guess we need to get to class huh? Can’t go ruining your perfect attendance.” 

“Or,” Bruce played with the collar in his hand, arms still around Jerome’s shoulders, “I could call Alfred to pick us up because I’m sick and pretend we were in the nurse’s office all first period.” He smiled up at him, really really not wanting to have to go to class. 

“Look at you, being a delinquent.” Jerome snickered, “How about this. We go to class and pretend we just got to school and from there we meet back up at the nurses. Let’s at least pretend we were actually going to go to class today.”

He nods, about to say something, when someone loudly knocks on the restroom door, yelling at them to ‘OPEN UP ALREADY!’ Bruce groans and moves to open the door when Jerome stops him. “Give me a sec, darlin’,” he takes the collar from his hand and pulls him towards him again, pushing Bruce’s shirt collar away to run his finger over the spot he had bitten before, leaning in to bite and suck at it all over again, completely ignoring the continued pounding at the door as he worked at his neck. 

He moved away after a moment, satisfied, and clasped the collar around his throat, closing his shirt collar over it. He gave a last kiss to his forehead and gave him a “See you soon, sweets.” With that, he unlocked the door and threw it open, glaring down at whatever poor sophomore had been banging at the door, pushing past him and leaving without a look back. 

Bruce was still stood in the restroom doorway, face flushed and hair mussed, making it fairly obvious that had been going on before they were interrupted. The sophomore looked between him and wherever Jerome had walked away to, terror at the realization he had been yelling at Jerome Valeska that whole time mixing with momentary confusion and wide eyed realization. Not wanting to stick around any longer, Bruce pushed past him, trying to push his hair back into order as he walked quickly to his second period class, wanting to get home as soon as possible.

  
  


He got to class just a moment before the bell rang, hoping desperately that he didn’t look like he had just been making out with his boyfriend for almost an entire period. He had never been late to Miss Hyde’s before, he made a habit of getting to his classes early if given the chance, so when she asked him why he had been so close, Bruce had to come up with an excuse. He explained that he had been helping another student with some issues at home last period and just lost track of time, close enough to the truth that the lie didn’t feel so bad. She told him what an upstanding student he was and to not let it happen again, starting class like nothing had happened. 

Bruce pretended to pay attention for the first few minutes, eyes on the board while his mind wandered, focusing in on the weight at his neck, making him feel warm inside, replacing any lingering discomfort from lying to Miss Hyde and planning to skip. His eyes flick up to the clock every so often, watching the minutes tick by until they’re nearly twenty minutes into class. He raised his hand to ask politely to go to the nurse, trying very hard to get up and run out of the room when Miss Hyde nodded and thankfully wrote him a note without much fuss. On his way to the nurse’s office, Bruce pulled out his phone, messaging Alfred as he walked. 

**Bruce**

Alfred?

**Bruce**

I didn’t know it was a good time to call or not, but I’m at the nurse and I’m not feeling well.

**Alfred**

What’s wrong? Are you sick?

**Bruce**

I’m sure it’s nothing serious, but it’s hard to pay attention to my lessons.

**Alfred**

I’ll be there soon, Master B. Hopefully if you’re nauseous, you get it out now and not in the car.

  
  


He was greeted by Jerome’s smiling face when he came into the nurse’s office. Bruce sat beside him on his usual side so the door was at his back, leaning against him and asking how he’d gotten there first when his class was farther away. Jerome shrugged, “You know I have my ways,” and Bruce let it drop, figuring he had just skipped going to class altogether or flashed his knife to get a note. 

_ [Walking into his class obviously late, Jerome smiled wide to his teacher, laughing at the face she puled, realizing his little vacation was over. He leaned against her desk flicking his knife open and closed with his free hand, mostly for the fun of it. “Miss me, Lizzie?” _

_ She sighed, not bothering to correct him, “Why are you late, Mr. Valeska?”  _

_ “Was playing tonsil hockey with my boyfriend and lost track of time.” He shrugged, “But I haven’t seen him in four days so it’s only natural, hormones and all.” _

_ She looked so very tired. “Mr. Valeska what will it take to get you out of my classroom.” Oh, she was always so easy.] _

Bruce knows that when Alfred gets here he won’t exactly be pleased to be taking Jerome home with them, but he’s prepared to argue in his favor. He feels strange, but in a nice way, like he doesn’t know what he’s going to do but it still feels like things will be alright. There will still things to worry about, he’s pretty sure the only reason the nurse hadn’t come to check on them was because Jerome threatened him and that wasn’t great, they were carrying a huge bag of attempted murder evidence and Jerome and him were still in danger because some creep decided that getting a teenager to entrap and murder another teenager was a good idea. It was terrifying and stressful and very suddenly a lot more real than it was just a week ago and Bruce, despite appearance, was not known for his ability to deal with stress. It felt right to bring him to the manor, somewhere he knew they could be safe and deal with things on their own time. And, to be honest, the thought of Jerome getting to stay the night in his room, the way they had planned before all this happened, made his heart race. Just a little. 

“You actually thinking about anything, dumdum, or just staring at me again?” Jerome was looking down at him, slipping Bruce’s hand into his own, “You’re lookin’ pretty serious there.”

“Ah, nothing,” Bruce looked away, he hadn’t realized he was watching him, “Just thinking about getting home.”

“You sure Jeeves is gonna be cool with me coming over?” he said, leaning over, “Even if I have to spend the night?” He wiggled his eyebrows, the utter ridiculousness somehow making him more endearing.

“Well, if you’re  _ scared  _ I wouldn’t want to force you,” he leaned away from Jerome just a bit, “I’m sure we can figure something else out.”

“And miss out on having to climb three flights of stairs just to get to your room? Heaven forbid.” Jerome grinned, meeting his eyes. He looked like he was going to continue when he looked up and past Bruce, face shifting just a bit, turning to a stage smile that he knew very well usually wasn’t a good thing. 

“Jerome, wha-”

“Master Bruce,” he heard from behind him. He shocked up straight, hand slipping out of Jerome’s on instinct, and turned to see Alfred standing in the doorway. He hadn't even heard it open. “Glad to see you looking a bit better than this morning. Should I assume Mr. Valeska will be coming with us?” He gave him a look that said they would be having a talk sooner than later, but otherwise didn’t say anything. 

He took stock of the two of them, eyes lingering on their now separated hands and the bag between them before turning around and going back into the main office, expecting them to follow. 

Bruce looked to Jerome and they both stood, standing behind Alfred as he signed Bruce out, saying nothing when Jerome walked out with them. They were silent until they climbed into the car, even Jerome seeming to think better of messing around just then. Alfred looked back at them through the rearview mirror, pressed as close to each other as their seat belts would allow, but didn’t say anything about it, just looked back towards the road. “Perhaps we should take your temperature when we get home, you look flushed.”

  
  


When they pull into the manor, Alfred suggests that Jerome makes himself comfortable in the sitting room while he takes Bruce to get some medication for his stomach, a not very subtle way of saying they were going to have a serious conversation in the kitchen. Bruce followed him quietly, sending his boyfriend a small smile, even as he felt the comfort he got from the collar turn to lead, weighing him down. 

“Master Bruce,” Alfred started, opening the medicine cabinet, and taking out a bottle of pain relievers, “I don’t think I need to tell you that I don’t want you lying to me.”

“I didn’t mean to, I mean,” He backtracked, trying to find a way to explain without sounding like a brat, fumbling with his hands behind his back, “I don’t  _ like  _ lying to you, Alfred, but I thought if I told you the truth you would make me stay.”

Alfred looked down at him, frowning. He shook two pain relievers from the bottle and swallowed them dry, pinching the bridge of his nose as they went down. "Bruce. I don't want you lying to me, especially about your health. But," he reached out and pulled Bruce’s hands away from each other to hang at his sides, “I also need you to know that I’m not going to ignore the way you feel. If you wanted to stay home this morning all you had to do was say something.”

“I didn’t want to stay home, I wanted to be at school in case,” he felt his heart jump in the most embarrassing way, “In case Jerome showed up. I was worried about him, so when he came in and I knew he was okay I felt like I couldn’t stay any longer.”

“I understand,” He turned to put away the bottle and Bruce thought that perhap this supremely awkward conversation was over before Alfred’s eyes flicked back to him, pinning him in place, “ _ but  _ that doesn't mean I’m not still upset. You’ve been through a lot this past year and I’m glad you’re making friends and that you’re happy, but we’re going to have a long chat about your behavior and moods lately. After Jerome is gone.”

Bruce nodded and Alfred placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, giving him a tight lipped smile before shooing him out, “Now go entertain your guest like a proper host. I’ll call you when I start on lunch.” 

He walked back out to the sitting room, stopping to stand in the doorway for a moment, watching Jerome walk around the room restlessly, picking things up, checking them out and placing them somewhere completely different. He was so caught up in watching Jerome bounce around with the various nicknacks around the room, Bruce couldn’t help snickering when he almost fell and tossed the figurine in his hand in the air while he scrambled to stay upright, fumbling with the figurine in the air so it wouldn’t hit the ground. 

“My grandpa got that for my mother when she was a kid, I’d prefer if you didn’t break it,” he came over to Jerome, taking the figure from his hands, “Kinda hurt you never told me you could juggle, though.”

“Hey, just ‘cus I worked with the snakes doesn’t mean I never picked up anything else,” his cheeks were flushed pink, distractingly cute, “and maybe if you didn’t want your shit broken, you shouldn’t put it where I can reach.”

“Or,” Bruce smiled, “we can go somewhere you can’t reach them?”

“I like how you think, darlin’,” Jerome , “To be honest, I’ve been missing your bed.”

“I was thinking we’d go somewhere else, if that’s alright?” he looked up at Jerome, not nervous, per se, but definitely hoping he’d say it was alright.

He pretended to think for a second, one hand on his hip, the other at his chin as he ‘hm’d. Bruce nudged him, telling him to cut it out, and he gave in, “Ah, you know I can’t say no to you, sweets.” 

Bruce took his hand, and led him through the kitchen, out onto the grounds. They passed gardens and greenhouses (he couldn’t help smiling when Jerome leaned over to pick the strawberries and raspberries available) and fountains and all sorts of greenery that was grown and trimmed just to decorate the huge plot of land. They talked about little nothings as they walked, enjoying each other and their surroundings. He led Jerome to a cluster of all different kinds of trees, far enough onto the grounds that the grass was longer and less kept up with, and he could see the dense lines of trees that closed in the property. He took off his uniform jacket, tie and shoes, sitting beneath a blooming tree with white flowers all in and around it. Jerome let his jacket drop to the ground and toed off his shoes, coming to sit beside him, letting Bruce lean against him.

“Are these trees special or something?” Jerome looked around them, this tree wasn’t the only one flowering, but the mix of bare seeming trees and flowering was kind of weird. “They’re pretty and all, but they don’t seem like all the trimmed fancy ones we passed before.“

“They’re fruit trees. We used to have more, the gardens have been here for generations, so we grew a lot of our own food,” He smiled, playing with the fallen blossoms on the ground, “This area doesn’t get much care anymore, but me and Alfred still like to come out to take care of them.”

“Shouldn’t you have, like, other workers who can do that for you?” Jerome looked at him, “You’d think you’d have more help than just one butler.”

“We do, the manor is too big for just Alfred and me to take care of, ”He frowned, looking into the cluster of trees, “there’s not a lot of workers and most of the people who work here come in the mornings or the evening, so I just don’t see them much.”

“Still, a massive mansion. Why don’t you have, like, a billion people working here?”

“I don’t know,” He chewed his lip, looking out at the trees, “My dad didn’t like having a bunch of people in the house, so we try to hire as little as possible. It’s really not that big a deal.” He didn’t want to talk about this or have to explain why he or his parents kept things the way they did, it felt weird. Bruce looked up at Jerome,“One of these is a cherry tree, you know. We’re just in time to harvest, if you find it we could have a snack.”

Jerome looked at him with a smile, pushing him off so he could stand and grab his jacket off the ground, “I know when I’m being told to shut up, Brucie, but I’ll accept it this once. You’re lucky I like cherries.” 

He stood, nearly disappearing into the fruit trees as he searched, humming as he went, leaving Bruce by himself. Leaning against the tree, closed his eyes to think, mind drifting to the past few days. 

Even though he knew it was natural to worry about one's friends, Bruce knew it was weird how out of it he had been the past few days. Selina went missing every so often, and yeah he got worried, but he had never just shut down like that. He knew Jerome was smart and tough and able to survive just about anything, but that didn't stop him from going borderline catatonic when he went missing. 

He didn't know when in the past semester he had gotten so attached to and dependent on Jerome, but he had. He couldn't imagine dealing with school without him, couldn't go back to dealing with dull classes and annoying peers by himself. Somehow Jerome had buried himself in his mind and heart, settled in the same groove as Alfred and Selina, and he didn't know what he'd do without him.

Bruce didn't know how to feel about being so dependent on Jerome. It felt too sudden, like these feelings had snuck up and blindsided him, but he knew it wasn't true. He'd been infatuated with Jerome for a long time, maybe since they changed Tommy's grades, he just hadn't realized how bad he had it. Was this what relationships were like? Forced acquaintance to friends to boyfriends, was everything supposed to move this fast? To hit him this hard? Was that what love left like?

Did he love Jerome?

He cared about Jerome, was always worried about him, cared (maybe a little too much) about what he thought of him. He wanted him to be happy, to be safe, and to be around him all the time. But, he felt the same about Selina and Alfred, more or less, right? So, what was the difference? Bruce felt his face heat as he thought on that. Well, he did care about Selina and he liked to be around her and wanted her to be happy but... he couldn’t see himself kissing her. 

He’d thought about it a bit, when they’d first become friends. They were close (or as close as they could be, both being as closed off as they were) and he knew that she was pretty and he liked her a lot, so it made sense to him that something would happen between them. Well, he thought it made sense, but nothing happened. They continued as close friends, Selina moved into the Cat's Cradle with Ivy and that was that. It took a long while for him to realize that he just couldn't like her like that, or any girl for that matter.

Jerome on the other hand, not only could he imagine kissing him, he quite enjoyed it. He liked being held by him, when he kissed his hair or his forehead. He liked sneaking kisses in class and making out in hallways and bathrooms and the school courtyard, when he moved his hand through his hair or down his back. To be fair, he couldn’t imagine any other guy doing those things either, or at least, he didn’t like to. Jerome was special, he guessed. But did that mean he loved-

Bruce’s eyes flung open when he felt something flick his forehead. 

He looked up to see Jerome leaning above him. He was holding his jacket in front of him like a makeshift bowl, showing off the pile of cherries he had picked. “Don’t fall asleep on me now, Brucie,” He smiled, “I brought snacks.” Jerome slid down to sit beside him, pulling Bruce in to lean against him, letting the jacket sit in his lap where they can both reach it. Bruce hmm’d but didn’t say anything, reaching over for a cherry and settling in against him.

They sat quietly, more quietly than could typically be expected of Jerome, eating cherries and watching the blossoms fall off the tree. Bruce could feel Jerome fidgeting beside him, there was a lot for them to talk about, a lot to avoid talking about. Theo, the bag, Silver, the past few days he was missing, where he would be staying now, it just kept going. There was so much to say that he just didn’t want to, he didn’t want to think about anything serious, to have anything more to freak out about after days of worrying. So they just. Didn’t. They ate cherries under the tree, sometimes Jerome would pop one into his mouth with a bad pun, talked about nothing and everything, never stuck to one topic for too long and Bruce was happy. 

He wasn’t sure when he closed his eyes. He remembered closing his eyes to the soursweet taste of cherries in his mouth, fallen flowers settling on top of him, Jerome murmuring beside his ear, but when his eyes opened, it was to his phone buzzing in his pocket, pulling him awake. He tried not to shift too much, he could tell Jerome was still asleep beside him, and took out his phone. 

**Alfred**

Lunch will be ready in a few minutes.

**Alfred**

Are you coming downstairs? I don’t want to clean crumbs off your sheets again if you eat upstairs. 

**Bruce**

We’ll be right there, Alfred, I just fell asleep.

Bruce looked up at Jerome, head lulled to the side as he slept, and stood. He stretched his slightly sore back and neck, wincing as his joints popped (how long had they been asleep?) He slowly pulled on his jacket and shoes, tucking his tie into his pockets, when he felt the stickiness from the cherry juice on his fingers. He licked it off, not thinking much of it, and tried to lick at his lips to get rid of any residue around his mouth, but didn’t find any. Huh. He must have been licking his lips in his sleep or Jerome had wiped his face or something. 

He nudged at Jerome’s shoulder to wake him up, watched his eyes flutter for a sew seconds before jolting open, his whole body lurching forward as he looked around himself. He looked up at him, sleep clearing from his eyes and smiled, “Morning, sunshine, you waking me up for breakfast in bed?”

“No breakfast in bed, sorry,” he put his hand out to help pull Jerome up, “You’ll have to settle for whatever Alfred made for lunch.”

He pulled him up and reached out to grab his jacket, holding onto it while Jerome slid on his shoes. There were little stains all over the fabric from the cherry juice, stains Bruce knew he wouldn’t do anything about because to be honest, they did look pretty cool. He folded the jacket in his arms and carried it as they walked back to the manor. 


End file.
